| Remembering Sunday T u e s d a y , A u g u s t 1 9 , 2 0 0 8 Sunday wasn’t anything particularly spectacular but as I flipped through my camera’s memory card, Sunday’s pictures were the last, so there you have it. I’ve hit an emotional lull. Sadly it is not new it’s been pestering me for a while now with the nagging question of wondering why I keep doing this. By this I mean why do I keep taking and posting these pictures and words? Why do I keep writing down my thoughts even if the end result is nothing more than a single grain of sand in the hourglass of my mind? More often lately it feel like it’s all for nothing. I guess I’ve temporarily lost sight of the reason that I began this process of documenting pieces of my life eight long years ago now. The desire is still there in my heart, it is still important to me. I think I just need to refocus. 
Keeping what amounts to a diary is a personal journey. Ultimately you do it for yourself but within that, I would bet it is the rare soul that writes with complete freedom and without the fear or perhaps excitement that another pair of eyes would one day read those words and pages. Obviously in the web-world all bets are off. We write and read to connect, to use a very inhuman tool to make a human connection. When you are beautiful and young, connecting is easy. Often times you don’t even have to do any of the work. People will come to you because they like what they see. If it weren’t so, 90% of the people on MySpace wouldn’t have a single “friend”. So where does that leave us that aren’t so beautiful, the ones that aren’t much to look at? The people who want to connect but don’t have the wrapper that everyone wants a piece of? I just feel more and more that if I’m not young and beautiful, what else have I got to bring to the table? Pictures of my motorcycle, a sailboat, a giant hamburger in someone’s front yard, what? I don’t know exactly where this road is taking me. If you’ve made it down this far in the post, I guess I should thank you for reading, for taking five minutes out of your day on my behalf. Hopefully you do it because you think that maybe I’m funny or interesting and not because you wondering what that jackass is up to now. Either way, I guess I would appreciate your time. Maybe one day you’ll say ‘Hi’? 
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